Sex Stories with Dick: Viva Las Vegas!

The saying is “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” unless you did what I did in Vegas and it was so terrible you just have to hear it.

My first mistake was going to Vegas for two weeks with then girlfriend Mirna. When traveling to Vegas never import your own chica. Vegas is the land of lust and honey if you have the money and should be traversed with your amigos. I had visited the city of sin numerous times, this was the first with girlfriend in tow.

Here I was with Mirna in Vegas at the Flamingo Hotel, which by the way is a great cheap hotel in the middle of everything and has one of the best pools on the strip. Mirna was without a doubt one of the most beautiful exotic dick holsters I have ever claimed repeatedly as my own. Peruvian but that not so pure Peruvian, more mixed with a little Indian. She had to one of the darkest, luscious manes of hair adorning that empty vapid creature’s head. I took every opportunity to wrap my cock up in her hair and cum all over it, not because I had some strange hair fetish but because her hair was just so stunning, she was a bit of a haughtiness to her that I liked to reduce, and I told her it was great for her hair. Mirna was beautiful like I said but she was also so very very dumb. Once, she asked with all the seriousness a four year old musters when asking daddy a question, “Dick, why do they call them buffalo wings? Buffaloes don’t have wings right?” Three things about beautiful vapid vacuous women: they love to get fucked, they will always take you back, and you will take them for granted.

The second week I was very bored of Mirna and if I cared to notice she may have been tired of my particular line of bullshit also. One night she turned in early and I hit the strip clubs. I ended up in one of my favorites off the beaten path and found Amber, a regular dancer who remembered me from previous visits. Three hundred dollars later, I am naked with Amber re-familiarizing myself with her degrees of flexibility. An hour or two later after many gin and tonics, I am back at our hotel lobby and I have the stripper stank about me. Strippers wear an obnoxious amount of perfume to mask any BO they may have, mask your disgusting scent, and lure you to lead with your cock. I needed a shower before I climbed back in bed with Mirna.

I looked for the hotel’s gym and instead locked eyes with a Lynn. Lynn was a blond soft skin doe-eyed prostitute with cold eyes that told a different style of her mercenary occupation. She says in a fake southern accent, “I saw you looking and it’s alright as long as you’re buying me (long pause) a drink.” I asked her if she had a shower and she said no and it would have to be my room. I slur “alright.”

I quietly open the door to our hotel room and duck into the bathroom with Lynn without turning on a light. I tell Lynn we have to be quiet, my girlfriend is asleep. Lynn laughs and says if it ain’t the girlfriend or the wife then it has even been a cousin once or twice. We hurriedly disrobe and step into the shower. Lynn obliges and actually washes me and herself quickly and playfully. I struggle to get the condom on and Lynn offers her professional one handed assistance. We are intertwined in one another’s arms, our eyes locked, and it is far more intimate a scene then I am used to, even with Mirna of late. She holds my gaze and makes me pick up the pace until I cum. She cleans me off and I shut off the shower. I hear Mirna ask what I am doing right as I am about to sneak out of the shower with Lynn. Mirna asks who is it and I tell her I had to shower, I took a walk on the beach and room service brought up some towels. Lynn says in Spanish, “Thank you Mr. Lambert, have a nice evening.” I get in bed with Mirna and she comments how nice the hotel staff is. My heart is racing and Mirna notices and I tell her how much she excites me. I finish the triathlon half-assed limp, spent and exhausted clinging to Mirna.